


You and Me

by seemeeimbeebee



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Superfamily, buuhhh cuteness, it's not very graphic, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seemeeimbeebee/pseuds/seemeeimbeebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has some doubts about his parenting ability (with good reason). Five year old Peter quickly puts those to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This work was inspired by: http://crazyk-c.tumblr.com/post/40830670250/captain-sweaty-llama-requested-a-picture-of-steve
> 
> Please go check out their work, and I hope you like mine! :)

Sometimes, having Steve leave Peter in his care was absolutely terrifying. 

Not because he didn’t love his son, because he did love his son. More than anything on this Earth. There wasn’t anyone who would say that Tony Stark didn’t love his son. But sometimes being alone with him was frightening because, well…Tony had doubts about himself. Tony had major doubts about himself. Everyone said that first time parents were supposed to have doubts and worries, but Tony was pretty sure that most first time parents didn’t have the parental lineage and genetic cesspool that he did. 

Yes, Steve’s father was almost exactly like Howard (which somehow made Tony feel worse because Steve had been little and tiny, and at least Tony had been normal sized and could fight back). But he also had a mother who stood up for him and loved him and took care of him. Steve’s mother instilled in him a sense of morals that most parents would die for, and Steve had turned out to be Captain America for crying out loud. Steve was the parent who could talk to teachers calmly, and who could teach Peter about things that normal little boys could learn about.

Tony had Jarvis. 

And there was Obie before that, but when your paternal role models turn on you and rip out your tricked out pacemaker and leave you to die…well, it takes them off the list of role models pretty quickly. 

He had turned into a hot mess before Afghanistan evened him out. All of Tony’s sense or morals came from watching everyone else and learning what not to do. The media still claimed he would be a bad influence on Peter, and that he was going to be an unfit parent to his son. Even though he had quit drinking ages ago, he still figured they were probably right. He yelled at Peter’s teachers—at home, of course. He wasn’t allowed to go to meetings with teachers unless he could prove to Steve that he was calm—when Peter got in trouble for things he didn’t do, and his morality was grey at best. He liked robots and chemical explosions and these were things that he definitely didn’t want to force his son the way his father had forced him into all that nonsense. Even then, Peter could still get hurt if he was into those things, so Tony only let Peter in the lab under heavy supervision. He wondered if he ought to make a station down there for Peter, but he didn’t know if that would fall under ‘pushing the kid into things he didn’t want to do’ so he refrained. 

So, yes, Tony was terrified of watching Peter because he had no idea if he was looking after his son the way he should be. He was terrified of treating Peter the way that Howard treated him. Peter was perfect, but he had convinced himself it was more Steve’s doing than his own. After all, Steve was pretty much perfect in Tony’s eyes. So why wouldn’t Peter be? But even Steve had to work on weekends sometimes and now Peter was left with Tony, alone. And Tony was praying to whoever that was listening that he wouldn’t fuck his son up in one afternoon, if at all. 

At that moment, Peter was sitting calmly, coloring on a piece of paper. A plate of grapes and apple slices was sitting to his right, and a cup of milk was beside that. It was 2:05 in the afternoon on a Saturday, and Tony knew that snack time was at precisely two o’clock during the weekdays and weekends—routine was important, Steve had stressed—with no exceptions or Peter got cranky, and these were Peter’s favorite snacks.

Still, Peter was coloring and humming to himself, but he had no idea if his child was happy because he was around or if he was just like a side figure. He wondered if Peter considered them both to be important or if he just loved Steve. Tony bit his lip nervously. He wasn’t sure he could take it if Peter didn’t love him back.

Then he felt ridiculous. _Rejection from a five year old, c’mon, Tony…_ he thought, getting up to put his own glass of milk in the sink. He sat back down and sighed, watching Peter color away. _Am I even doing this whole ‘Dad’ thing right? Hell if I know…_ He watched his son color away, his mind going back to his childhood.

He didn’t think his dad had ever sat with him like this, and colored. Not that Tony was coloring, that wasn’t really what he did, but at least he was here. Howard had never been there. Not for coloring, or school plays or science fairs or college or anything good. Hell, he was barely there when things went bad, unless he was the one who was instilling the punishment. Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to banish the thoughts of his father screaming and the beatings that would follow.

Tony shook his head, peering over at his son, trying to clear his head of the negative thoughts, as if they would infect Peter. He couldn’t see what Peter was drawing, but the child was still humming away happily as he colored away, with a content, but focused, expression on his face. “Hey, bud. What are you working on?” Tony asked gently, careful to keep his voice warm and curious and not worried-filled. It wasn’t like his heart was hammering against the arc reactor. No. That’d be silly. 

Peter stopped coloring, and smiled up shyly at Tony. He put the pencil down and showed Tony what he had been working on so joyfully. It was a picture of Peter and Tony holding hands with a heart in between them. Tony gasped, his heart melting a little bit as his eyes traveled over their messy hair, the giant circle in the middle of Tony’s chest—to represent the arc reactor—and the way that both Peter and Tony were smiling in the picture as they held hands. Peter still smiled shyly at him, waiting to hear what his Daddy had to say.

Tony gathered the boy up in his arms and buried his face in his son’s hair as he hugged his son tightly. “Love ya, squirt,” he said in a choked voice, unable to help the tears that came into his eyes. Peter nuzzled close and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck with a little giggle.


End file.
